“Oh, he’s adorable!” I exclaim. “How old is he?”
“Nearly three months.”
I see a toddler hiding behind the woman’s legs. He looks maybetwo and a half. I want to make sure he gets an equal amount of attention, so I smile at him. “And you’re the older brother?”
He shyly bobs his head up and down.
“I bet you’re a really good one.”
Again, he nods.
“I’m going to be a big sister!” Lily proclaims with a proud smile.
“Is that right?” The woman grins at Lily, then at me.
I touch my belly, feeling self-conscious. “It’s still early days.”
“Well, congratulations!” She turns back to Lily. “I’m sure you’ll be a big help to your mommy.”
“She’s my auntie Quinn. My mommy’s dead.”
The woman’s smile dissolves. “Oh! Oh, honey—I’m so, so sorry!”
“Auntie Quinn is like my mommy now.” She turns to me. “Can I call you Mommy?”
“I, um...” My heart swells, but my brain is flummoxed. I would love that, but it’s too soon. I wouldn’t feel right, and Miss Margaret would be crushed.
“Y’all have a great day,” the woman says, obviously eager to flee.
“You, too.” I tell her. I look at Lily. “Let’s go sit down, okay?” I lead her to a table by the window. Zack and Jessica follow.
“I really need a mommy,” Lily says, her eyes glistening with tears.
“I know, honey. Come here and get a huddle.” It’s a term Brooke used, a cross between a hug and a cuddle. I hold out my arms and she climbs into my lap. “I’m here for you in every way your mommy was. I love you and I’ll take care of you and always be there for you.”
“So can I call you Mommy?”
“I would love that. But don’t you want to wait a little while?”
“Why?”
“Well, your mother hasn’t been gone all that long.”
“I thought she was dead.”
“She is, honey.”
“But you just said ‘gone.’”
“I meant dead. People sometimes say ‘gone’ instead of ‘dead’ because the word ‘dead’ is so sad.”
“Oh.” Her little body deflates. “She’s dead gone.”
“Yes, sweetie.”
“An’ she can’t come back, ’cause she’s in heaven.”
“That’s right.”
